Without Shrimp
by faithunbreakable
Summary: Various drabbles crossing Buffy with other worlds. Most of them inspired by lj prompts. Up now: SPN, PotC, ABVH, Glee.
1. Chapter 1

I own neither Buffy nor any of the fandoms I cross it with. These drabbles are all written for prompts given to my over on my lj. For the link, see my profile. More prompts are always welcome. I'll get bored enough to write them eventually.

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Buffy/Supernatural

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#2: Buffy, Ruby - With friends like them who needs enemies. – 216 words 

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"Know that warehouse down by the river?" Ruby asks by way of greeting, throwing herself into an empty love seat.

"There's dozens down there," Buffy points out, rolling her eyes.

"The one with the pin-up painted on the side." Ruby leans forward across the table and snatches the other blonde's drink, pulling it towards her and taking a sip. She grimaces at the sugary taste of the cocktail but doesn't hand it back.

Buffy scrunches up her nose as she goes through her mental catalogue of empty warehouses. It takes longer than she'd like to admit. Finally she nods, eying the glass in the demon's hand, wondering if it's worth causing a scene over in the middle of a crowded night club. "Yeah, I know it. Why?"

"Bunch of demons planning mass homicide," Ruby shrugs, twirling the straw between her fingers.

The slayer perks up. "When?"

Checking her watch, the demon frowns. "Midnight?"

Buffy reaches across the table, grabs the other woman's wrist and twists it to check the time herself. Half past eleven.

"What the… Ruby!" She jumps to her feet, grabs her purse and takes off running.

She's already halfway across the dance floor when Ruby kicks her booted feet up on the table and says, mostly to herself, "I'll finish your drink then."

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	2. Chapter 2

Buffy/ABVH

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#8 Buffy/Asher – She's always been drawn to broody vampires, why would this one be any different – 379 words

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"Come _on_," she wheedles for the last time, resisting the urge to tug on his arm like a toddler, trying to get him to come along. "It'll be fun!"

It's Jason's birthday tonight and there's a party and she really, really wants to dance with her boyfriend. Well, _lover_ actually, since he refuses to be called her boyfriend. Whatever. Right now, he's not being much of either.

"I don't want to come, Buffy. Would you leave me alone, please?" Asher sighs, tucking a strand of golden hair behind his ear – on the good side of his face. Six months in and he's still hiding from her.

She flops onto the sofa next to him and pouts. "Why? Jason's your friend, annoying as he is. You're invited."

"I don't want to go." Right. He said that before. Half a dozen times. As many times as she's asked why he's not coming. Why, why, why. She knows the answer anyway.

Because he hates people. Because he hates crowds. Because he hates how they look at his perfection and, when the light falls right, his imperfections. Because most of the time, he hates himself and she's pretty sure a lot of the time he hates her, too, for not caring about either the beautiful side of him, or the ugly one. It's all Asher, to her.

Not to him.

She gives up with a slump of her shoulders and stands, picking up her purse and tugging her skirt into place. It's a last ditch effort, show the man what all and sundry is going to see of _her_ if he's not there to literally cover her butt. His eyes follow her hands to the hem, then up her thighs, smoothing over her hips and stomach. But he makes no move to get up.

She doesn't sigh again, doesn't ask again. She tucks her purse under her arm and turns to go. "Bye," she calls, getting no echo back as she closes the door behind her.

One of these days, she promises herself, she'll find someone to love without so many hang ups. Healthy. Balanced. Not broody. Possibly human.

"Buffy," he calls after her through the closed door and she stops and hopes, cursing herself for it.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

He always it.

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	3. Chapter 3

Buffy/ABVH

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#5: Dawn/Asher - She was Julianna all over again... – 329 words

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Her long, dark locks, her doll-shaped face. Her limbs that seem to never end, her waist, tiny enough to span with his hands. The grace in her fingers, the curve of her lips.

The similarities do not end there. The glint of mischief in her eyes, the sparkle something beautiful under her skin. Her capacity for compassion, for love, even for one such as him. Her magic like a living thing against his cold flesh. They burned her a witch for loving him, for loving Jean-Claude, never understanding how true their words were, and how merciful she was.

True magic, true power, slept within her but even as she burned, she did not turn it against humans, did not take life. She swore an oath to protect and protect she did. He should not have survived their torture and he knows it.

It was her last gift to him, this half life, this ugliness he bears now and would gladly bear for a thousand more years if only he had her back.

And now here she is again, Julianna reborn, brought back to him by some gracious twist of fate, looking at him with the same adoration, the same love. Seeing past the monster to the man, who has forgotten he even existed.

Here she is again, calling herself Dawn – sunrise – and remembering nothing of her past life and its gruesome end, an end she met because of him and Jean-Claude.

An end she met because she was a soul too beautiful, too gentle for this world.

And for all that he knows now, for all that he fears a repeat of history, for all the pain and suffering, for all that he wants to spare her the fate of loving him, he know he is not so strong.

She says his name with a smile, hand held out to him and he should run, should run far and fast. To spare her.

But he is not so strong.

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	4. Chapter 4

Buffy/Pirates of the Caribbean

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#15 Buffy/Jack – This time they're both stumped – 398 words

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"Forget it, I'm not doing it," Buffy stated decisively, shaking her head for good measure. Jack, standing beside her, backed away a step and waved his hand in her face, mouth opening and closing.

"You… you… it's your _duty_!" He zeroed in on her suddenly in typical Jack fashion, getting way too close for comfort, finger almost up her nose. "Your sacred, holy, absolutely… absolute… duty." Then he backed away again quickly, afraid she was going to come after him. It wouldn't be the first time.

"That is not part of my duty," she snapped, ignoring his fumbling and stumbling with the practice of too many years spent in too small quarters with the man. Somehow his crazy got a lot less impressive after a few years. "Why don't you do it? You're the one who got us into this mess in the first place."

The finger was back in her face as the pirate floundered for words. Since he was carefully keeping track of _it_ out of the corner of his eye, he didn't manage much more than a helpless, "Nuh-uh!"

Buffy huffed, looked down at the object of their little crisis and returned the favor by getting up in _Jack's_ face for a change. He received the change in pace with a slow blink and backed away a few steps. Right up until he realized he was getting within range of _it_. Then he almost jumped the slayer to put distance between himself and the _thing_. God, the smell alone…

"Jack Sparrow-," Buffy started, not impressed with the fearless pirate trying to hide behind her, dramatically pinching his nose closed.

"Ahh, Captain, love, _Captain_ Jack Sparrow." She always, always, _always_ forgot the Captain.

Buffy made a grab for _the_ finger as soon as it reappeared and missed as he pulled it back lightning quick, cradling it against his chest. "Jack Sparrow," – she did that on purpose, she did- "You are the one who told Will and Liz that you would gladly babysit their spawn for them. _I_ had nothing to do with it whatsoever and the fact that I'm a woman does not make me an expert in all things baby. So you are going to pull on your big boy panties and you are going to change little Will's diapers. _Now_!"

She crossed her arms and glared.

Jack gulped. Junior cooed.

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	5. Chapter 5

Buffy/Glee

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#10 Buffy/Puck – He's always had a thing for hot, blonde cheerleaders – 685 words

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Beth's first birthday falls on a Thursday and the whole week leading up to it, everyone mopes and if Puck has to look at Finn's and Quinn's blotchy fucking faces for one more second, he'll scream. So he drives his ass to the airport and gets on the first plane out of there. He'll be back on Monday. He's not running away. He just needs to… whatever.

He lands in LA and more or less simply starts walking. He's got a couple hundred bucks left from raiding his account and there's no-one here to remind him of the kid he only got to hold once or the girl who gave birth to her.

Somehow, he lands in a mall. It's kinda funny. He crosses the whole country to get away and then goes to the one place that's the same, no matter where you go. He could've had that way cheaper. But, whatthefuckever.

Food court. Double of everything and he's slurping his milkshake when a gaggle of cheerleaders invades the place, all in uniform, all long legs and tight little butts in tiny skirts. Plastic smiles and shiny hair. He tells himself to go and hit that, but he can't quite work up the energy, remembering full well what happened the last time he got groiny with a cheerio. Which doesn't mean that he's reformed or anything it's just that… this is a bad time of year, okay? He's still the stud, the Puckerone, the goddamn cock of the walk, as Berry says, only without the swearing. But hitting up on cheerleaders is… boring. That's it. Boring. He's been there before and believe you him, he's done it, too. Them. Anyway.

He watches them from across the court, amusing himself with assigning positions in a surprisingly nonsexual way. That one's the alpha bitch, but not for long. Throne's still shaky. That one's the rival. And there's the omega chick-y, kind of shy and probably actually nice. He feels like one of those guys on Discovery Channel, all cool and suave (thanks Berry), when a latecomer shows up.

She's tiny. Like, as small as Berry, and blonde. There's a nasty bruise hidden under her make-up and he notices the others stare at it. Her smile's bright as she waves hello and abruptly, the others fall silent. The shy girl smiles at her, the alpha bitch almost growls. The blonde snaps at her, the girl snaps back and then the collective bitch-pride gets up and walks away, leaving the blonde standing alone at the table, looking half angry, half sad. She touches her bruised cheek and looks after her teammates, tears standing in her eyes.

Fallen Queen. He's seen it before, how the most adored girl went to leper in less than a week. He felt bad then, because it was his fault, kinda, or at least his spawn growing in her belly. He had reason to feel bad. This time he has no reason at all to feel for the tiny blonde chick with the bruise.

But you see, almost two years ago he joined this club of losers and they taught him that most people are actually, you know, people, under all the bullshit and this chick looks like Quinn did, back in the day. Hurting and trying to hide it.

And suddenly he feels like hitting on a cheerleader after all. But not any cheerleader. This one. Because it's like, they kinda seem to be in the same place here, yeah?

And, he thinks as he gets up and puts on the swagger, they can help each other out. He can be the untouchable jock and she can be the adored cheerleader. Just for a roll in the hay, maybe two.

And then they can go home and… ah, screw this. No thinking. He came here to LA so he doesn't have to think. He's gonna go over there now and he's gonna tap that for no other reason than that she's blonde and a cheerleader and he's never been able to resist that combination.

That's it. So shut the fuck up about it.

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	6. Chapter 6

Buffy/Torchwood

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#6: Dawn/John Hart - Beauty didn't tame the beast, she joined him – 167 words

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He hit on her.

She told him he looked like someone she once knew.

He asked if it was good sex.

She slapped him.

He told her he loved her.

She slapped him again and then saved his life when they guys chasing him stormed the place.

He woke in a hospital and was surprised to find her still there.

She slapped him a third time when he made a dirty 'nurse' joke and asked his name.

He told her the truth, stunning himself.

After that things got strange. So strange, in fact, that he still has no idea how she ends up hanging off his arm every time he makes another time-jump. He saw a pretty girl and flirted with her, expecting to get slapped. She did that, but then went and surprised him.

That's not something many people manage.

So he keeps her around. He insists it's all about the sex, though.

(She knows that's a lie, but lets him get away with it anyway.)

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	7. Chapter 7

Supernatural/Angel

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#17 Dean, Angel – Small talk about hell – 174 words

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There are no words for it.

No words for _heat, pain, rage, exhaustion, exhilaration, pain, pain, pain, hate, blood, heat, firefirefire, underyourskin, weight of the razor in your hand, feel of blood down your skin, laughter in your mouth and ashesashesashes, screams, echoes, splitting your ears and your head, joints creaking, bones breaking, skin inside out, hunger, painpainpain, humiliation, laughter, tears, you cry shamelessly, utterly free after a while, no restraints, no constraints but leather cuffs and the limits of your own soul, sould ripping, sounds of flesh rendered, spirits broken, smell, sight, taste, red, blood, blood, blood and oh god, the stench, can never wash that off, never get rid of it, never erase the memory, the feeling, underyourskin, inyourhead, youpickeduptheblade, you did it and the stench, god, no, no god, no heaven, only this, heat and blood, make it end, oh please, please, make it end, I beg you, please, razor to skin and…_

A bottle of whiskey between them and a night full of silence.

There are no words for it.

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	8. Chapter 8

Buffy/Glee

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#18 Buffy, Puck, Rachel – 'and let the sun keep shining on' from Fonda – The Sun Keeps Shining On Me (Radio Sunnydale CD) – 309 words

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_I drove so far away,  
Just to be with you,  
(just to hold your hand),  
Every word you say is blurred,  
To keep me smiling,  
Look likes the day has come to end,  
And yet the sun is shining_

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She comes to visit him, all the way from Cali to Ohio.

She comes to visit him because she just died last week and the year before that was hell, too. Vampires, watchers, divorce, move, vampires, old school burned down, new school on Hellmouth, vampire boyfriend, Master, vampires, dying, vampires and did she mention vampires?

She comes to visit him because if there is one thing she knows about Puck, it's that, despite all his crazy and his hang-ups and his sexin', he's steady as rock. She could use some steady right now.

She comes to visit him because she's known him longer than anyone else in her life and she trusts him to be her friend, to kiss away the dyingvampiresscreamingwater. She trusts him to take away her irrational fear of showers and baths.

She comes to visit him and arrives early because she blew off the last day of school to be here, to pick him up from McKinley high and get some of that trusting and the feeling-safe on the road.

She comes to visit him and finds him with his arms around a tiny brunette, laughing with a bunch of misfit, cobbled together kids that don't look like his usual posse. The Puck mask is down and there's quite a bit of Noah peeking through, the boy she knew before they hit puberty and started kissing games behind the garden shed. He looks happy.

She comes to visit him and finds that, while she still needs him, he doesn't need her. He's got that other girl in the prim skirt, who probably never burned down a building and doesn't live across the country. She probably never got drowned either.

She comes to visit him and leaves again quietly.

He never knows she was there and eventually she gets over her bathroom-phobia on her own. Mostly.

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	9. Chapter 9

Buffy/Supernatural

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#3: Sam, Angel - Redemption obsolete. - SWANSONG SPOILERS – 422 words

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Have you heard that saying, boys? _The road to hell is paved with good intentions?_

Well, have you? Of course you have. And I bet you thought, well, that's not gonna happen to me. Didn't you? Because you were sure, so sure that what you were doing was right. Angel, dear boy, you were only saving your people, weren't you? Playing the game, taking over the enemy from the inside.

Right thing to do, yes? Has anyone ever told you that small evils are still evils? No? Well, they should have. A year with the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart, only a year, and you committed more of those small evils that some do in a life time. Still telling me it was necessary? That it served a purpose? All those souls you signed away with a wave of your hand? All the monsters you let roam free?

And you Sam, ah, I don't think I have to tell you what you did. Drinking demon blood? Tsk, tsk, my boy. Bad form. And don't tell me you did it for Dean because we both know that's not the truth, don't we? You did it because it felt _good_. Because it made you strong enough to finally stand up to big brother. Funny how you always felt the need to compete with someone who only ever tried to protect you.

But let's not linger on the details, shall we? I don't really care why you did what you did. Good intentions, bad intentions. In the end, it all worked out. For me, I mean.

Not for you, obviously. That's the 'hell' part of the saying. One of you opened the door to my cage. The other one kicked down the main gates.

And all of hell spilled into the world like a plague.

Because of you, my beautiful, beautiful boys. Because you were being noble, were being righteous. Because you thought signing away your chance at redemption was the way to go. Self sacrifice is good, right? It's the tool of saints all over the place. For the Greater Good. Should have read the fine print. Should have asked iwhose/i Greater Good we're talking here because it sure as hell wasn't that of humanity.

Whatever. You be nice and quiet now. Sit still and wait for me. I'll be back in a while. Got a world to set on fire. Shouldn't be too long. You made sure of that, didn't you? I'm proud of you two. Couldn't have done it better myself.

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